by Nora Flite
After all, I'd spent the past months learning that, myself.
My body is strong. The music sped up, so did my steps. Pain doesn't scare me, it lures me in. My eyes flew to Carter, and my jumps flew me into the air. I'm not weak or pathetic or easily forgotten. I was Noel Addison...
And I was in love.
Whip-fast legs carried me in a tight circle. One spin, two, three... I didn't stop. I would never stop. As long as I could breathe, could live and laugh, I would dance.
Carter had said I was lying. He called me out when I claimed that I was fine with giving up the dance I was meant to share with him. Of course, he was right.
Slowing to a halt, I my lungs screamed with adrenalin. Standing tall, I saw Cally by the curtain. She was miming a clap for me.
Bowing, I skipped back to my spot, passing Carter as I did. He was the last solo act. After this, the pas de deux.
Holding myself together, sharing a quick, private nod with Bronta, I joined everyone in the sidelines. This was it. After everything he'd endured, here was Carter's moment to shine again. Behind my back, I touched the gold ring.
Carter was a shadowed sentinel. Poised in the glowing circle, the man who'd shown me so much about who he was and who I was, came to life in a blur. His long legs swayed, splitting as he jumped. Graceful, intimidating, he twisted in a pirouette and threw back his head.
Over the music, I heard the appreciative gasp. I couldn't see them, but I knew every set of eyes in the audience was on Carter Braeburn. They watched and didn't blink, lungs refusing to fill, just like mine.
Carter was telling his own story. It was tortured, toxic... and by the end, surging with beautiful life. For his finale, he destroyed the number of turns I did, never faltering once. Landing in a deep bend, Carter looked straight at me. I was hypnotized, forgetting I was performing at all. Whatever had been holding this man back, he'd shed it and revealed his glorious soul to the world. I hoped they appreciated it the way I did.
There was clapping, the music dimming; shifting. Around me, the other dancers were heading for the curtains. This was the moment, the brief pause so two people could adjust into their spots and begin the partner dance.
And it was supposed to be me... and him. Looking across, I realized Carter hadn't stopped staring at me. He willed me without speaking, imploring me to forget Valerie, forget about Rosella, and do what we both knew I ached for.
Dreams or love. Cally... her harsh advice. One or the other, that was her rule. She didn't know that, for me, the two were linked. Carter was love, dancing was my dream. Right here, in front of thousands of eyes, I could enjoy both.
Deliberately, I crossed to meet him. Beyond him, I saw Valerie's infuriated surprise. She'd halted mid-step.
I was worried about so many things. Yet, in that moment, Carter's face was telling me not to. My lover, the man who covered me in wounds and made me question my sanity... right then, he made me feel safe. Being here, with him, was safe.
No one could hurt us like this.
Valerie left the stage with the others, and what she did next, I didn't see or care. Carter had me in his grip, his chest to my back and his lips near my ear. “Don't worry,” he whispered, “I took care of it. It's fine now.”
I wanted to ask what he meant. I couldn't, the piano had started once more. Carter grabbed my waist, hoisting me up high. He gripped like a vice, determined to never let me go. I was carried across the stage, dipped on tip-toe with my other leg pointed to the stars.
He slid a palm down my thigh, summoning goosebumps. Turning me, again and again, he allowed me to rotate in perfection.
Side by side we jumped, leaps that would make dolphins jealous. We came apart, only to draw back together magnetically. It was our destiny, our unadulterated fate. Carter controlled my movements and filled my nostrils with his heady scent.
Dancing with him was nirvana.
The final move, he hooked his arms under mine; threw me straight up. One knee caught over his shoulder, the other wrapping around his middle. He arched me towards the stage so fast I was close to tasting it, then held me like a bow and arrow.
Sweat. Stretch. Smile.
Extending an arm towards the audience, I held the pose...
And the thunderous applause began.
****
Backstage was a loud, grand mass of people. So many I didn't recognize, shaking hands and congratulating my classmates. A few were handing out pamphlets and business cards. Every face was smiling with joy.
The hug came from behind, startling me so I jumped. “Dad!” I shouted. “Dad, you made it!”
“Of course I did,” he chuckled, squeezing me tight. “You were beautiful, honey. You looked just like your mother. She would be very, very proud.”
Tears filled my eyes; stupid, stupid tears. Why was I crying? “Thanks. That means a lot.” Standing up, my father's attention went over my head. Turning, seeing who he'd noticed, I grabbed Carter's wrist. “Dad, this is Carter.”
They sized each other up. My dad grabbed him in an embrace so friendly it made the dancer's eyes pop. “You were amazing, too!” he declared. “That pas de deux was poetic!”
“Hah, thanks,” Carter chuckled nervously.
Laughing, I turned in place and looked over the congregation. Bronta was talking to a throng of girls, all various ages who resembled her. Her sisters? I wondered. She'd mentioned them before. I wanted to tell her how beautiful she had been; how stunning. “Give me a minute,” I said to my dad.
Shoving through the elbows and tutus, I headed for where I'd last seen Bronta. Lost in the mix, I scanned for something familiar. Instead, I found the first pissed off person in the bunch. “You stupid bitch,” Valerie growled.
Wrenching backwards, I narrowed my eyes. “Get away from me.”
Ignoring my demand, she snatched my wrist and yanked me violently out the backdoor. I shouted, my voice getting lost in all of the calamity.
The evening was warm, sticky on my skin. Valerie shoved me, sending me bouncing off of the chain link fence. “What were you thinking?” she hissed, waving her arms madly. “You know what I'm going to do now! I'm showing those photos to everyone, you're done—Rosella is done.”
Standing tall, my hands fidgeted at my sides. She flinched, perhaps remembering how I'd slapped her before. “You're still going to tell Mr. Vince?”
“Of course I am!” Those fingers were talons, she struggled between lashing at me or holding herself at bay. “I'm going in there to tell him right now. Fucking the teacher who organized this show? I think Mr. Vince will love to know all about that.”
“No need,” a voice said behind her. “Carter told me everything.”
Valerie twirled, letting me see the older French man. He held the door open, a deep frown on his normally kind features. “I—what?” she asked. “There's no way he told you everything!”
Nodding slowly, the director moved so that Carter could stand beside him. The dancer shut the door, creating a private bubble away from the celebration. “I told Vince last night,” he said.
Shaking her jaw so hard her hair whipped side to side, Valerie raised her voice. “I bet you told him a sanitized version! Sir, I have photos that prove Noel was having sexual contact with Mr. Braeburn!”
Sighing, the older man patted his vest pocket. “Carter showed me those as well.”
My cheeks burned. Moving sideways, I inched around Valerie to stand near Carter. “You told him?” I asked.
“I wasn't going to let her blackmail us,” Carter said.
Gripping her scalp, Valerie made a strained noise. “If you know the details, then fire him! He can't do this—they can't!”
Lifting his shoulders, Vince puffed air through his lips. “I can't fire him. He quit last night.”
Covering my mouth, I stared up at Carter. “You quit?”
He didn't answer me, he just reached down to take my hand. I felt him rub the ring.
“This is bullshit,” Valerie said. “Fucking craz
y bullshit! So what if he quit? I'm still going to show those photos to everyone, tell them this performance they're so impressed by was put together by this ethic-less shit bag!”
“Watch your mouth.” Scrunching his lips, Mr. Vince didn't take the hard edge out of his voice. “If you want to do that, no one can stop you. However, it would be a lie. From what I understand, it wasn't Mr. Braeburn that ran this event. It was a lovely young woman by the name of Cally Mitchell.”
Valerie let her jaw drop. “Cally?”
Thinking about it, I had to agree. “Yeah,” I said, “Cally did put this together. She coached everyone, planned the routines, she did it all. Carter... he was a dancer, not a teacher.”
Valerie looked ready to explode. Throwing up her hands, she stomped towards us. Carter put an arm in front of me, anticipating an attack. Instead, she yanked the door open. “If you think anyone will believe that, you're... you're all just...” Fuming, she said no more.
Watching her fading into the crowd inside, I looked dubiously at Carter. “Why would you quit?”
“I warned that girl yesterday,” he said coldly. “I said I could talk to Vince. Well, I did, I told him what was going on.” He nodded at the director. “We made a deal.”
“A student-teacher relationship might tarnish Rosella,” Vince said. “Carter convinced me that the problem would only exist if he remained a teacher here for the following years. If he left, who would care what he'd done? It's Valerie's word against ours that you two did anything before he stopped teaching.” Chuckling, he pulled out the crumpled photos and handed them back to Carter. “I'd burn those, if I were you.”
Tension left my body. I wanted to jump and cheer. Instead, I considered a sobering thought. “Wait. If Carter isn't going to be the instructor here now... then who?”
Gesturing for us to look inside, Vince flashed his teeth. “Isn't it obvious?”
Leaning over, I peeked down the hall and into the backstage area. There, surrounded by figures in suits and a few eager, young men and women... was Cally. The girl who had once thought about teaching when she was on track to be a mother. Someone who'd been robbed of her dreams again and again.
I had her to thank for so many things. Most I could never explain.
“You're right,” I said gently. “It was obvious all along.”
-Epilogue-
Carter Braeburn
I held the card in my hand. The edges were folded, crinkled from where I nervously played with it. For the fifteenth time, I tucked it back in my pocket.
“You need to relax.”
Rocking on the seat, I looked at Noel. She was completely calm, pressure never seemed to get to her. The window by her ear kept turning her dark hair a lovely, golden-red. All smiles, she reached down to hold my hand. “Really, relax. What are you so scared of?”
Once, it had been many things. Fear that I'd live my empty life to its bitter end in my rat-hole apartment. That I'd never achieve anything, reach any goals.
That I'd strangle the life out of the beautiful woman who consistently stood up to me and forced me to question myself.
I gave her hand a squeeze, played with her ring. I loved that she still wore it. I never asked her to. Noel willingly displayed the trinket, the proof that she would never forget me.
That she belonged to me.
“I guess... I'm nervous they'll turn me down,” I said.
Laughing, she leaned in close. The air pressure in the cabin was messing with our hearing. “Carter, they didn't turn you down the first time.”
“They can change their minds. Or maybe it was just a gesture.”
Noel put her forehead on my clammy temple. She'd always liked doing that. “Carter Braeburn, you amaze me. Even now, after all the letters and offers, you think you're not good enough?”
I touched the card in my pocket. “This is different.”
“Well, you're right,” she said softly, tapping the window. We were almost to San Francisco. “This time, you aren't going to be alone.”
Shivering, I melted against her as much as our seats would allow. She's right. This won't be the same.
Four years ago—had it already been four?—I'd auditioned with a heavy heart. I'd noted every mistake, found flaw where there wasn't and then...
Then it all ended. My future was a dead husk.
Until I'd met her.
Like she was reading my thoughts, Noel brushed my knee gently. “It won't be the same. I promise.” My old injury didn't twitch. For once, it didn't even ache, and I believed her.
This time would be different.
This time, with Noel by my side...
No one would watch me fall.
THE END
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~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
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A USA Today Bestselling Author, Nora Flite loves to write dark romance (especially the dramatic, gritty kind!) Inspired by the complicated events and wild experiences of her own life, she wants to share those stories with her audience.
Born in the tiniest state, coming from what was essentially dirt, she's learned to embrace and appreciate every opportunity the world gives her.
She's also, possibly, addicted to coffee and sushi.
Not at the same time, of course.
Check out her blog, noraflite.blogspot.com, also email her at [email protected] if you want to say hello! Hearing from fans is the best!
-Nora Flite
Also by Nora Flite
The Body Rock Series
Hard Body Rock (Rockstar Romance)
Slow Body Rock (Rockstar Romance)
Standalone
Letting You In (New Adult Romance)
Letting You Know (Letting You In Series #2)
Flawed Body Rock (Rockstar Romance) (The Body Rock Series Book 3)
True Body Rock (Rockstar Romance) (The Body Rock Series Book 4)
Only Pretend: A Novel
The Body Rock Series Boxed Set
Watch Me Fall
Watch for more at Nora Flite’s site.
